


Nightmares || Merlin Fanfic

by startledstoat111



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Cutesy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 22:37:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5603518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startledstoat111/pseuds/startledstoat111
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Freya's death, Merlin is struggling under the weight of his guilt and grief, unable to move on. The thought of her steals into his head, invading his dreams, and hijacking his every thought. The world around him continues to turn, his friends oblivious as ever. But does Arthur see more than Merlin gives him credit for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares || Merlin Fanfic

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a merlin secret Santa, just merthur bromance, sorry. Tbh, I figured out how to use tumblr messaging the day before yesterday, so I panicked and somehow this was what came out?! Sorry, anyway, but I think it ended up okay, and I hope you like it! :)

Set after series 2, episode 9.

Your blindness to my downfall  
Has gone too far to be a joke.  
As I stand ablaze before you,  
And you tell me you smell smoke.

 

The mare nickered softly, as Merlin ran a caring hand across her ears, rubbing gently. "Good girl." He murmured underneath his breath, letting the horse nuzzle against his hand. It was these moments he treasured, these precious moments of peace, away from the shouts, the joking, the eyes. Not because they were looking at him- but because they weren't. They slid over him, as if he were nothing more than a mildly interesting piece of scenery. And when they did look at him, it was only to give orders. Only she had ever looked at him and saw. 

He could not help but wonder at the obliviousness of the knights- how could they laugh, joke, when his world was lying in shattered pieces around his feet? How could they be so blind? 

Merlin thought back to her first few days in Camelot, and despite the sharp wedge of hurt in his chest, he could not help but smile. It was the cold snap- and she was the snow. She tore in like a hurricane, changing the very earth beneath his feet, until he walked in a white wonderland, the world around him stunning in its rebirth. But then came the thaw. Vanishing, disappearing before his eyes, until all that remained was the twisted remains of broken stems and cracked china, the ground soaked through with tears. 

He swallowed hard against the rising lump in his throat, and blinked back the moisture from his eyes. Enough tears had been spilt.

"MERLIN!" Arthur's shout rang out through the forest, clear and demanding: the sort of voice that expected to be obeyed. Merlin quickly ran a hand across his cheek and mouth, trying to manipulate his lips into a smile. He managed a creased grimace, and hoped it would be good enough.

"Yes, sire?" He called back hoarsely, scrambling towards the small clearing where the knights had made camp. 

"Make dinner, would you? We're starved." Arthur barely looked at him as he spoke- a fact Merlin was thankful for, due to the redness rimming his eyes. 

"Of course, sire." 

Merlin cooked automatically, barely conscious of his hands moving. His mind was a million miles away- in another time, watching a blushing girl accept a rose, her red dress in tatters. 

The rest of the evening passed the same way- Merlin wrapped up in his own thoughts while the others set the night on fire with the raucous laughter and outrageous jokes. Arthur noticed though. Just as Merlin was making his bed, he asked randomly.

"Are you alright?"

Taken aback, Merlin could only get out a "Yeah, I'm fine." before leaning back around and closing his eyes, trying very hard to ignore Arthur, who continued talking anyway. He caught only snippets of what he said over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

"...Haven't been yourself... haven't smiled since we left... back end of a cat..." 

"I'm fine!" Merlin ground out between his teeth, his temper flaring. Arthur raised one eyebrow, but held up his hands in surrender and set up his bed opposite him. Merlin squeezed closed his eyes and tried very hard not to think.

Arthur P.O.V

Merlin's scream shatters the night, ripping me from my empty oblivion. I am on my feet, sword in hand, before I am even fully conscious, my muscles tensed and my body alert. I look wildly around for enemies, but my confused gaze falls only on Merlin's twitching body. He is shaking, and a low, gutteral moan is emanating from his voicebox, a keen of complete agony escaping him. As I watch, a spasm rocks his body, and he cries out in a distorted groan filled with hurt.

"Freya." He whispers, his voice broken and cracked. "Freya." Another spasm grips him and he twitches, as if to escape the pain. I shuck off the shock paralyzing me, and hurry across to him.

I shake him gently, not wanting to hurt him further. He shies from my touch, bucking and twisting. "Freya!"

"Merlin! Wake up!" 

He begins gasping and sobbing, as if every piece of him is broken. "Please don't leave me!" I slap at his face, trying desperately to rouse him from his wasteland.

The next scream he gives is so pain-filled, I feel its vibrations down to my bones. "Freya!!!" With a gasp, he jerks awake, yanking upright as if he's reaching for something. For a moment he remains in the dream, his eyes fever-bright and saturated with fear. The manic terror slowly dissipates as I call his name and bring him back to the land of the living. He scoots away from me, a nervous apprehension colouring his tear-stained cheeks. My own panic has not yet faded. 

"Merlin! Are you ok?" He nods, all sharp movements and angular shadows. I exhale, letting the tension bleed from me, as I relax against the tree trunk. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah." He gets out. "Sorry." He is pale, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin.

"What was that about?!" I ask, now a little angry at him for scaring me like that. 

"Sorry." He repeats, as quiet as a breath.

My own retort comes hard and fast. "That's no answer."

"Just...just a nightmare...sorry." He says again, looking as his own entwined fingers. If I didn't know him so well, I would be unable to see the storm raging just behind his bottle blue eyes. But I can and I do, so I ask, as gently as possible.

"Merlin... who's Freya?"

His gaze snaps up to meet mine, defensive anger lining the sharp planes of his face. 

"Who?"

I shake my head slightly. "I know you heard me."

"I have no clue who you're talking about."

"I heard you say her name." My voice is as soft as it ever gets- Merlin is normally solid: dependable, and its a little frightening to see him so broken.

"Maybe you misheard." 

I lean forward. "Merlin, I may be a prince, but you can talk to me you know. You can trust me."

He glances up, as if he's startled I would even doubt it, but he still cannot look directly at me.

"I do," He says. "With my life." 

"But not your secrets." He squirms, shifting away from me, his eyes firmly fixed to the ground, as if there was something vitally interesting written there.

"I er, can't imagine you'd be interested, sire."

"Try me." 

Merlin clears his throat, shifting away from me. "So, what is with this new touchy feeley side to you sire? Are you finally in touch with your inner emotions?" The corner of my mouth twitches- glad to have some of Merlin's sarcasm restored. But curiosity has me now, and I'm not letting him change the subject. Despite myself, I am fascinated. What secrets could Merlin - Merlin- have that were so awful?

"This... Freya... who was she to you?" 

A lingering silence greets me as Merlin takes a deep breath. The next words he speaks are so quiet they are barely audible. "My world." He finally meets my eyes, and his are so full of pain and unspoken agony it hurts to look at. "She was my world." 

My lips part slightly, and words leave me. I have no idea what to say. 

"Merlin..." 

Tears have begun to fall from his eyes: he wipes them away furiously, but more take their place. He covers his face with his hands, shaking slightly, then draws his knees to his chest, retreating into himself. Wordlessly, I shuffle closer, then put my arm across his shoulder, completely at a loss as to what else to do. 

He wipes his eyes frantically, trying to stop the tears. He takes a deep, steadying breath and glances up at me, looking more fragile than I'd ever seen him.

"She's gone." He gets out in a choked whisper, unnecessarily. I'd already known, the moment his tears fell. I imagine losing Gwen, and a sharp sting of pain cramps in my gut, just thinking about it. It is unthinkable. This is what Merlin is feeling, a hundred times worse. 

"I'm sorry." My voice is no louder than a breath. I feel him shrug slightly next to me. He sighs. 

"It wasn't your fault." His voice is heavy, layered with pain and secrets, hurt and forgiveness. His tone makes it sound like a bigger concession than the words, and I wonder what he's not telling me. Was I somehow responsible? 

"I'm sorry anyway." Merlin exhales softly, and pulls the blanket closer to his chest, closing his eyes. I remove my arm from his shoulders, but move closer and sit next to him, trying to think of words of comfort. None come to mind, and we both drift off to sleep in silence, wrapped in our own thoughts.

The next morning, light streams through the trees and the sun is just a blinding globe. The sky is perfect azure blue, and there are no clouds marring the skyline. Merlin is still a little pale, but as he cooks up some breakfast, he looks well enough. He helps me with my armour like usual, and as he does, he mutters an apology for his behaviour the night before. 

"Merlin, don't worry about it." He mumbles a yes, but I catch his arm before he can go. "It will get better, I promise." He nods listlessly, then backs from the clearing before I can stop him. 

I sigh, and pick my sword up from the ground, giving it a swing. Sir Leon ducks, and the blade passes just over his head. I jerk back, panic jolting through me. "I'm sorry!"

"No problem sire." He replies cheerfully, brushing off his tunic. We get going soon after, gently cantering towards the city. At this rate, we will reach Camelot by nightfall: a welcome proposition. I keep my eye on Merlin, but he is pretty much back to normal, and we exchange a few joking insults as we come within sight of the parapets, until he falls. He slips slightly, his foot yanking from the stirrups. I reach over and right him. 

"Are you okay?"

He sighs and looks over at Camelot, the great turrets, the sun positioned over the great gate. He turns towards me and smiles a little, a raw authenticity in the twist of his lips.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I will be."

~~~~~~

Thoughts?

Oh yeah, sorry about the cliche ending, I couldn't resist.


End file.
